


Milkshakes & Chastity Belts

by darlingdearestdead



Series: Nights at Pop's [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Archie thinks he is jealous but isn't, F/M, Jughead Jones is confused, Jughead thinks he isn't jealous but definitely is, Kind of comfort, Unresolved Romantic Tension, friendship but also something more?, i guess technically canon divergent now but also not?, set just after 1.05, written before 1.06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10020041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdearestdead/pseuds/darlingdearestdead
Summary: “This a bribe Bets?” He enquired, leaning back and appraising her.“No. It’s a Milkshake.”Betty seeks Jughead out at Pop's, and discovers he's the only person she really feels like hanging out with anymore.Set just after 1.05. Exploring the growing tension and changes between them. Now a multi chapter fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly didn't even ship this till the last ep and then I slipped and wrote this. Ooops. Enjoy, and it's not been proof read so sorry about any mistakes.

The bell rang as the door to Pop’s was nudged gently open, but Jughead barely registered the disturbance in the quiet room. The words were spilling from his fingertips, his brain fully transported to the world of his work, it wasn’t often that he could get this lost- no matter how much he wanted to- and he didn’t want to let anything shake him free from the grip his writing held.

That was until a certain blond slipped into the seat opposite him. He gave a little jolt of his head, an annoyed acknowledgment of her presence, but attempted to stay engrossed with his work. It was difficult when he could feel Betty’s eyes trained on him. They were deceptively sweet eyes, green and round like a cartoon princess, but hidden beneath the long lashes was a steel gaze that he caught looking right through him. It wasn’t like Archie’s stares, who could barely see past his own teenage angst, or even Veronica, who dreamed she knew more than she did, it was a quieter sort of power that scared him. 

And then, leaving behind a cloud of flowery perfume and the tang of sweat, Betty slipped out from her seat and moved away.  It took all his willpower not to let out a small sigh of relief, he ignored the almost as strong cry of disappointment, as he stretched his fingers and tried to type.  But then she was back again, flopping back into the seat opposite him and sliding a chocolate milkshake across the table towards him. She leant back, sipping on her own vanilla version, watching him.

Finally, he paused his fingers against the keyboard and looked up, Betty was smiling sweetly, fiddling with her straw, but there was a challenging tilt to her head. He let his lips turn up just slightly.

“This a bribe Bets?” He enquired, leaning back and appraising her.

“No. It’s a Milkshake.”

There was a brief pause and then he pulled the drink towards him and took a long pull from the straw. He stopped himself from just straight up inhaling the drink, Jughead had always been known for his bottomless stomach but that was mainly because he was used to living on very little, so when he could get something he wanted everything.

“Not bad for a bribe Cooper.” He said, after his gulp. “Though a plate of fries wouldn’t go amiss.”

She rolled her eyes, though she was smiling, and caught the attention of Veronica’s mother who was wiping down a nearby table.

“Mrs Lodge?” She leant forward neatly to capture the older woman’s attention. “Do you think we could get a portion of fries? No hurry or anything.”

Hermione Lodge looked around the diner, that was remarkably empty apart from an older couple sharing a drink across the other side of the room, and gave the other girl an amused look.

“Sure Betty, I’m not exactly rushed off my feet. One plate of fries coming up.” She swept away, somehow still glamorous in her uniform, disappearing into the back.

He watched her for a little while longer, and she met his gaze just a strongly.

“What are you after?” He asked after a second.

“Nothing. Not everyone has ulterior motives Juggy”

“In my world they do. Pretty girls don’t just walk up to me and start a conversation. Pretty sure I’m what’s considered a bad idea.”

“Funny.” She halfheartedly glared at him.

“Have you found something to add to the murder board? Any new relatives with earth-shattering secrets?”

She leant against her palm, cupping her own chin, and stroked it regretfully. “No.” She admitted. “Nothing new. I think-“She took a little breathe. “I’ll do some digging on my dad. I’ll find out if he had something to do with it. I will.”

“I know you will.”

She jerked in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He took another sip of his milkshake. “You’ve got morals Betty.”

“Unfortunately.” She leant back, tapping one fingernail against the side of her glass.

“Fortunately.” He pressed. “You’ve got morals in the face of murder Bets, that’s called bravery.”

A lesser writer would’ve portrayed Betty Cooper as the damsel in distress. Everything about her, superficially at least, was ripe for the stereotype. She was the girl next door, literally, with perfect blond hair, sugary sweet good looks, and the type of manners that made any parent melt. Betty was all straight As and pressed sweaters, vanilla cupcakes and ice cream sundaes. Her story should’ve been about love, mooning over Archie and fighting with Veronica until the boy realised it was her he’d been in love with all along. Another writer would’ve crafted that narrative for her, given her a happy ever after as a housewife raising little red head babies in the middle of suburbia.

But Jughead Jones was not a lesser writer, and he knew Betty better than that. She was more than sugar and spice. Betty was flesh and blood, sweating and shifting in the booth opposite him, and filled with anger she rarely let out. Her mother was a nightmare. Her sister was locked away somewhere she couldn’t reach. There was nothing Betty wouldn’t do for the people she loved even if she let herself get trampled in the process. She was the type of girl who didn’t flinch when he accused her own father of being a murderer.

And maybe, in the past, he’d underestimated her. They’d known each other for years, a decade of tolerating each other for the sake of Archie friendship. Each one claiming the other as nothing more than a necessary acquaintance. Or maybe that was a rewrite of history and Betty had always considered him a friend, he’d just been too wrapped up in his cynicism to notice. Either way, he cursed himself for not seeing past her pastel exterior, at least until recently, wondering what wonders he might’ve missed.

“You feeling okay Jughead?” She leant across the table to place the cool back of her hand against his forehead.

“Mildly irritated. But that’s just the usual” He shifted out of her reach, and she let her palm fall back against the table.  “Why?”

“You’re being sincere.” Betty elaborated. “It’s an odd look on you.”

“Everything’s an odd look on me. It’s the beanie. Or possibly the teeth.”

She gave him a disconcerting look. “You should try sincere more often.”

There was an odd moment, where Jughead found himself wishing that Betty was less put together, that there was a hair out of place in her slicked back pony tail, so he could have an excuse to reach out, under the pretence of tucking a hair behind her ear, and touch her.

“Here’s your fries.” Hermione Lodge returned, placing a plate piled high in between the two teenagers. “Pop says they’re on the house.”

Jughead turned his eyes away from Betty, half embarrassed, because the free food that Pop sometimes sent his way was an admission that he was struggling, and half relieved that Veronica’s mum had broken the odd tension in the air. Because it was weird, the urge he was feeling, he usually prized his private spaced and loathed touching others. This was new, strange, and he wasn’t liking it at all.

“Thanks Mrs Lodge.” Betty said, flashing her a wide smile. “And tell Pop thanks.”

“Sure. Enjoy kids.” She smiled fondly at them, and then wandered away to return to wiping down the empty tables.

He grabbed a few fries, perfectly golden and crispy, shoved them in his mouth and chewed them thoughtfully.  “So,” He said after he swallowed. “You came here because you were bored?”

She chewed on her own food and then shrugged. “Something like that.”

“You want me to entertain you?” He deadpanned.

“Definitely.” She laughed. “Perform for me, please.”

“If you wanted a clown you should’ve gone to Archie.” He gestured to his beanie covered head. “You know, the hair.”

“Right. But Archie is…” She twirled her straw, her gaze fixed somewhere above Jughead’s shoulder. “Well, you know.”

He nodded, leaning back in his chair with a sigh, because he did know, he knew too well. Archie was _Archie_ , self-involved and hormonal. Jughead was finding him almost unbearable recently, and their friendship was still so tentative since their Fourth of July argument. It seemed like Archie didn’t have time for him anymore. Maybe Betty was discovering the same thing.

“You could go perform a virgin sacrifice or whatever it is you do with Veronica. Maybe even-“

“Jughead. I want to hang out with you. I came here to find you. Now shut up and eat your free food.” The joke didn’t quite fit her expression, she was trying to be lighthearted but he could see the vulnerabilities in her slightly hunched shoulders and downturned lips. And he thought he understood why.

Jughead’s own reaction to their recent tragedies hadn’t surprised anyone one, especially himself, because he’d always viewed a catastrophic event as inevitable. He lived in the grey areas, the outsider in a noir narrative he was constantly constructing in his head. And when Jason’s body had been found, disturbing their small town and turning its bad weather into ominous pathetic fallacy, it simply felt like reality was catching up with what he’d known all along. But he’d expected everyone else to fall apart. Archie acted almost as if nothing had happened, twisting the death until it was somehow about his own affair and conflict over music and football, and Veronica was a stranger to it all anyway. But Betty, after whatever twisted mess had happened with Polly, had stepped up to meet murder head on. And maybe she sensed that he was the only other one who got it.

That’s why he found his next words tumbling unexpectedly out of him, almost accidentally, until he couldn’t take them back. “You want to hear some of my novel?”

“Really?” She asked incredulously, because Jughead was notoriously private about his personal work. Everyone knew he wrote, what he was writing about, but no one was allowed to see it unless it was perfectly polished and done.

“Why not?” He tried to play it off nonchalantly but his heart was suddenly beating faster. “You could be the Robin to my Batman”

“Okay.” She was looking at him like he was going to disappear right before her eyes. “But I’m an editor, not a sidekick.”

He opened his laptop and clicked through the files until he found his first chapter draft. His eyes flicked from the screen to Betty’s open and eager face, he licked his lips, and began. “Our story is about a town. A small town. And the people who live in the town.”

He chanced a look up and saw Betty with her eyes shut, listening attentively.

{}

“Juggy.” Betty began with her eyes still shut, when he finally stopped at the end of the chapter, the near empty diner suddenly eerily quiet.

“Yeah?” He was nervous, suddenly realising that he’d stolen half the girl’s life and then regurgitated it back at her, and the way she leant back against her seat, looking almost asleep, wasn’t helping.

“You’ll come with me right? When I find out where Polly is?” She opened her eyes now, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher.

“What kind of a journalist would I be if I didn’t?” He replied, and then, quieter, he continued. “What kind of a friend?”

She smiled at him and this time it reached her eyes, lit up her whole face, and Jughead felt his lips turn upwards in return. “I liked it Jug. It was really good. Brutally honest.”

“If only the rest of this town would agree.” He closed his laptop. “I don’t think all the residents of Riverdale are gonna love my take on things.”

“Claim artistic licence.” She shrugged.

“Sorry Blossoms, I did make you seem creepy and implicate you in your son’s murder, but it was just the call of the muse.”

Betty snorted. “The Blossoms doesn’t need your book to make this town think they’re creepy. Their house has its own graveyard.”

“And little old ladies lurking in dark rooms.”

“And secrets.” Betty said, suddenly serious. “Lots and lots of secrets.”

“Secrets are just truths waiting to be discovered.”

“Wow, sorry Aristotle.” She teased. “How philosophical.”

“Hmm.” He half-grumbled, looking out at the window. The time had passed without Jughead really realising it, and now he was noticing how dark it had gotten, evening shifting into night whilst they’d sat and talked. “What happened to your chastity belt Betty?” He turned back to the blond. “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”

“Mum’s still away.” She shrugged, picking at what remained of their fries. “Dad’s probably passed out. I’m off my leash.”

“Clearly going wild with your freedom.” He snagged his own fry.

“You’re a bad influence.”

“A Rebel Without a Cause.” He said, half to himself, half to her.

“You’re a regular James Dean.”

It was his turn to snort. “I try.”

Betty sighed, looking somewhat past him as she rolled her shoulders and pushed the near empty plate away from herself. “I wish I didn’t have to go home.” She admitted, slumping against the booth. “Can’t you just whirl me away to wherever you go for a bit? I’ll even let you give me a film education. I’ve never seen a Tarantino film.”

“You’ve never seen a Tarantino film?” He asked, sounding genuinely horrified. “Betty, remind me again why we’re friends?”

“Honestly, I can’t remember.” She replied, a teasing look in her eyes.

Jughead watched and wished, not for the first time in his life, that he was a little bit more like Archie. Though she was passing her request off as a joke, he somehow knew that there was a genuine tinge to it too, and, if he was Archie, he could invite her round to his house and she’d follow. They’d watch classic movies all night, he could show her all his favourites and she’d complain but secretly enjoy it, and they’d be behaving like the normal teenagers they were meant to be. But Jughead wasn’t a normal teenager, he didn’t have a home to take her back to, so he just forced a wry look. “Sorry Bets, a man never reveals the location of his secret lair. It’s against the rules.”

For a second, Jughead believed that Betty had seen through him. He was conscious of the stains on his rumpled checked shirt, the rip on his jacket that he couldn’t patch up, and he froze awaiting the pity or accusations in her voice. But Betty, just sighed. “I should probably go home anyway.” She admitted. “If Dad noticed I’m gone, he might panic.”

“Because of Polly?”

She nodded, looking for a brief second like she was somewhere else, and then she trained her gaze back on his. “Walk me home?”

“Come on Cinderella.” He hopped out of their booth. “Let’s get you home before midnight.”

“It’s past midnight.” She complained, sliding much more delicately out of her seat.

“I didn’t say I was a good Prince Charming.” He replied, leading the way out of the warm, bright lights of Pop’s and into the darkening streets.

{}

They walked through the streets in an easy silence, keeping perfect pace with each other, and Jughead felt, for just a second, like their relationship was normally as comfortable as this.

“When are you getting locked back in your tower then Rapunzel?” He asked as they walked.

She flicked him a look. “So now I’m Rapunzel?”

He stopped, gave her an appraising look, and then tugged on her golden ponytail. “Almost, but your hair’s too short.”

For a brief moment, under the streetlight, Betty almost blushed, but she refrained and simply averted her gaze and carried on walking. “Whatever, Holden Caulfield.”

He let himself smile just a little, but chose not to respond. They carried on in warm silence for a little while longer, just content to be walking together on the empty sidewalk.

“You know what I think Jug?” She said.

“Whoever killed Jason Blossom is a sociopath?”

“No. Actually, probably. But I mean about your novel.” He stiffened just slightly, but she didn’t seem to notice. “I think you should put yourself in it more.”

“I am in it. I’m not sure if you noticed but I wrote the whole thing.”

“But you make it seem like your presence is incidental.” She insisted. “And, trust me Juggy, it isn’t.”

They were walking up her street now, nearly at her door, and Jughead could see the lights blazing in Archie’s room next door.

“I don’t know.” He replied. “I’m not sure how much me I can handle.”

They were paused on the threshold to her porch, and Jughead avoided her gaze, ducking back slightly under that expression the blond girl was shooting him. He used to think a girl like Betty Cooper was on open book, but these days, more often than not, he couldn’t figure out what was going on in her head.

“Jug, give yourself a little more credit.” She said and then, suddenly, she was reaching up to hug him.

Slowly, tentatively, Jughead let his arms wrap around her in return. Her face was pressed against his shirt, and he didn’t have time to worry if he smelt or what she was thinking, he was too caught up in the sensation of holding her. They’d never hugged before, not properly, and it felt strange but nice. And then, he noticed the sniffles coming from her head and the sensation of wetness against his chest realising with a jolt, that she was crying.

“Bets, wow. I’m sorry.” He held her tighter. “The world sucks for you right now huh.”

He heard a small grunt as she nodded against his shirt.

“The world is full of shit and it’s shitting on you extra hard.”

“Right.” She pulled back slightly, so her body wasn’t pressed against his but she was still encircled in his grip.

“It’ll be okay. Or, at least, a little better.” He tried.

“I’m being stupid.” She rubbed angrily at her eyes. “I didn’t want to make a scene. Archie’s probably watching us wondering what’s going on.”

At the mention of Archie’s name, Jughead pulled back and stiffened, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets. It made sense, that Betty wouldn’t want Archie seeing them hug, so Jughead wasn’t sure why it made his chest feel so weird and tight.

“Go to sleep Betty Cooper.” He grumbled. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Thank you.”  Betty replied, sounding fiercely sincere. And then, surprising them both, she stood up on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss against his cheek. “Night Juggy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then she disappeared into the deceptively warm glow of her suburban house, leaving Jughead alone in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He liked that somehow when she smiled at him, the corners of her lips sloped downwards, how Betty could take something associated with sadness and make it unexpectedly beautiful. 
> 
> The day after the night before. Or the second half of 'Milkshakes & Chastity Belts' where Archie is oblivious, Kevin is confused, and Betty and Jughead spend another evening at Pop's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People seemed to want a second part and oops my hand slipped again and I found myself having written a second half. Enjoy!

When Jughead shut his locker that morning, he found himself face to face with a perplexed, and vaguely annoyed, Archie Andrews.

“What’s up High School Musical?”  Jughead asked, eyeing the way Archie was leaning against the wall and watching him. “Coach on your back again? Your dreams of stardom fading away?”

“Not funny Jug.”

“Sorry Dude.” He began walking to class, Archie following on his heels. “I never promised funny.”

Archie sped up so he was in front of him and tugged him, gently, out the way of the flow of students. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Jughead sighed, fiddling awkwardly with the straps of his bag whilst he waited for the other boy to get to his point. At this rate, he was going to be late to class, but being on time had never really been his priority.

“I saw you last night.” The redhead shifted awkwardly on his feet, suddenly unable to look his friend in the eyes. “With Betty?”

“The point of spying is not to get caught Andrews. Remind me not to recommend you to the CIA.”

“I wasn’t spying.” He insisted, widening his eyes with such intense earnest that Jughead almost laughed. “I just looked out the window and saw you.”

“Betty’s honor isn’t in need of defending, you can relax. She was upset. I was comforting her.” Jughead cursed the other boy for putting him in the position of defending himself when he hadn’t committed a crime. Even if it had been romantic, which confused Jughead just to think about, he would’ve been well within his rights. Archie had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t interested in the girl next door, so why did it matter if someone else was?

Archie however, still seemed stuck on the concept. He leant closer, lowering his voice like they were discussing some deadly secret. A few kids shot them odd looks as they passed. “Why was she upset? It wasn’t-“ He furrowed his brow. “Was it about me? Because me and Ronnie were just-“

“Is it inconceivable to you that Betty might be upset about something other than which girl whose name begins with V you’re dating this week?” Jughead snapped, feeling himself becoming unreasonably annoyed with this entire conversation.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know Archie! Maybe the murderer wandering around town?”

“Oh.” Archie stepped back. “I didn’t-“

“You didn’t think. Like always.” Jughead interrupted, pushing himself off the wall “And I’m late for class.” He headed in the direction of the dwindling throng of students.

“Are we ok?” Archie called after him.

The other boy turned around, his face half-serious half-joking. “I don’t know. Maybe you should cash in on one of those ‘many burgers’ offers. I didn’t tell you there was an expiry date?” He let a sardonic smile cross his face, a way to soften the blow, before turning around and stalking back off.

It wasn’t even really about Betty, although it was, but mainly about Archie’s complete self-interest. Never had he met a more oblivious guy, it would’ve been amusing if it wasn’t so damn annoying to deal with. He wanted his best friend to notice that they hadn’t been spending much time together, to notice how much time he’d been spending with Betty instead, and how he didn’t even have a home anymore. But it was a pointless wish, one which only left him frustrated.

{}

Jughead was in a bad mood all through his first class, barely listening to the teacher groan on, and instead writing his thoughts in-between the notes on his page. Everything came out fragmented, useless for his novel, but it made him feel a little better anyway.

When he arrived at his locker after that hour, he was so lost in his annoyance and confusion that he almost didn’t noticed the note slipped between his belongings. The writing was almost impossibly neat and he would’ve recognised it immediately as Betty’s elegant script even if she hadn’t signed it. He’d often wondered if she’d spent hours, years possibly, practicing her handwriting until it was as beautiful as it appeared today. And, the more he learnt about the pressures Betty faced, the more he was beginning to think he might’ve been right. It upset him, to think of baby Betty labouring over something so inconsequential, and he felt pity for the girl whose success he might’ve previously thought of as effortless.

Still, the most surprising thing was that she’d thought to write to him at all.

_Juggy._

_Thank you for last night. I’ve been wondering what films you might want to recommend to me? I’ve been thinking since our talk that I need a bit of education. See you at Lunch for work on the Blue and Gold?_

_Betty._

He wandered into their classroom at lunch and tossed the note, embarrassingly crumpled from where he’d been examining it, and Betty looked up as it landed on her desk.

“Got your love letter.” He said, perching on the end of the table she was occupying. “It was sweet but you couldn’t have just asked me in person?”

“I wanted to give you some time to assemble a list.”

He had to avert his gaze, his lips involuntarily twitching into a smile, because that was exactly what he’d been doing and he was oddly surprised that she knew him well enough to guess that. “You’re in luck. I have a few ideas.”

“I’m all ears.” She leant towards him, and Jughead was momentarily distracted by the motion of her perfect ponytail.

The door swung open to let Kevin wander in. Immediately, Betty jumped back as if she’d been caught doing something illegal, visibly flustered with her big eyes blinking too much and pink rushing to tinge her cheeks. Jughead on the other hand turned around smoothly, and just watched Kevin eye them bemusedly with his usual cool expression. “Hey Kevin, ready to solve a murder?”

“Ready to wonder why our dear Betty looks so guilty?”

“Doesn’t she always look like that?” Jughead asked, with exaggeratedly feigned ignorance, furrowing his brow.

Kevin’s phone buzzed, he slipped it out of his pocket and then looked from his phone, to his two friends, and then back to his phone again. “Actually, I think I’m having lunch with Veronica.” He shifted awkwardly back towards the door. “Do you think you can handle this by yourselves?”

“By gosh we’ll try!” Jughead cried out sarcastically.

“We’ve not made much progress anyway.” Betty said, though they had, it was just progress she hadn’t told him about yet, progress that pointed the fingers towards her own family. But Kevin hadn’t noticed the new note pinned to the board, and she didn’t feel it was something he needed to know just yet. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright.” He gave one last confused look between the two of them, and then disappeared back through the door.

“That was weird wasn’t it?” Betty asked, after a second of silence.

“My concept of weird is greatly distorted.” He responded, getting up and wandering over towards their assembled murder board. “That barely registered a one on my scale.”

He could sense Betty just behind him, as she wandered to peer over his shoulder at their haphazard wall of evidence, and he wondered if she too was focusing on the card scrawled with her last name.

“I feel guilty.” She admitted. “I haven’t exactly been confiding in him lately.”

Jughead turned around. “Has he been confiding in you?”

She physically stepped back, hair bobbing, and gave him a surprised stare. “I guess not.”

“It’s like you said Bets,” He looked back at the wall. “Riverdale just isn’t the same right now, even if no one will admit it.”

“I’ll admit it.” She responded defiantly, both of their gazes tracing the web of facts and speculation in front of them.

“We’re doing more than that.” He peered to examine something on the wall more closely, hand hovering thoughtfully over his lips. “We’re uncovering it.”

{}

They spent the rest of their break trying to piece together theories, reading the same pieces of information over and over, but it was fruitless because they both knew nothing would move forward until they visited Polly. It felt good to try anyway, despite languishing in investigatory purgatory, and Jughead left in a significantly brighter mood than he’d arrived. And Betty left with a messily scrawled list of films pressed neatly between the pages of her chemistry book.

When Jughead arrived to take up his usual position at Pop’s he wasn’t necessarily expecting Betty to arrive at some point, they’d made no plans, but it was a possibility that he kept simmering away at the back of his mind as he wrote. And when she did show up, he had to lie to himself, and pretend he wasn’t supremely relieved.

“I’m sorry, you must be confused.” He said as she approached. “The table of Jocks is over in the other corner.”

“Cheerleader jokes. Very Funny.” She replied, as she skipped to a stop in front of him, the skirt of her uniform flouncing out over her thighs.

“I can only promise no cheerleader references if you supply me with food.” He said, pretending to still be occupied with his screen when, in reality, every fibre of him was fixated on her presence. “Burgers are preferred, but I eat almost anything.”

“You’re practically a garbage can Jughead Jones.” She complained, but she headed for the counter anyway.

“Jughead Jones the 3rd!” He corrected as she walked away, and the sound of her laughing made his cheeks grow warm.

He looked up when, a few seconds later, a root beer float with two straws appeared in front of him, and then Betty Cooper slid into the booth opposite him. “The burgers are on their way.” She took a drink from her straw. “You’re lucky I’m hungry from practice.”

“I’m lucky you speak to me at all Bets.” He said, waiting until she was done sipping to lean forward and take his own gulp.

She grinned at the compliment, and he had to look away for a second, before chancing another glance back at her. He liked that somehow when she smiled at him, the corners of her lips sloped downwards, how Betty could take something associated with sadness and make it unexpectedly beautiful.

“Anything new happened since nothing new happened at lunch?” He inquired, after swallowing his mouthful of ice cream and soda.

“Unless you count practice, no.” She played with her straw, a habit he’d noticed she did often, eyes unfocused. “I haven’t even been home yet.”

Jughead couldn’t help wondering if she’d rushed straight from practice to Pop’s just to see him, but he didn’t allow himself to follow that thought, wishful thinking like that led him nowhere. “Home is overrated anyway.” He said, though that was something he wouldn’t know. “Home doesn’t have burgers and milkshakes-“

“And Juggys.” She pointed out.

“Right. But also fries and hotdogs and-“

“Okay, I get it!” She laughed. “Stop, before my stomach rumbles so loudly it causes an earthquake.”

“Now that Betty,” He said, stealing the cherry that floated on top of their drink. “That is something I’d like to see.”

And then, before she could respond, Hermione Lodge appeared carrying two plates laden with food. “There you go kids, enjoy your meal.” She said as she sat them down, smiling at the teenagers thanks before rushing off to serve someone else.

“How did you know burgers were my favorite Betty?” He gasped sarcastically.

“Eat you burger, before I change my mind and eat them both.” She replied, picking up her own one and taking a huge bite.

For a while they sat in silence, demolishing their meals, but it was less uncomfortable and more companionable. They’d just paused their conversation for a little while to savour their food, Jughead’s first real meal all day, with the acknowledgement that when the plates were cleared they’d pick it right back up again.

“I think heaven is just a room filled with burgers.” Jughead said, after he’d swallowed his last bite.

“You’re way too easy to please.” Betty scoffed.

“What would heaven be to you then?”

The blond went quiet and then, looking up at him through her thick lashes, she smiled softly. “I can’t give all my secrets away.”

Jughead was about to reply, but then someone came to clear their plates, and the moment felt too far out of reach for him to get it back.

“Juggy.” Betty said, leaning back and watching him fixedly. He sensed, as he waited to hear what she was about to say, a shift in the mood and it made him tense up as he waited to see what she’d say. “Will you read to me again?”

He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, scrunching his body up in the way he often did when he felt awkward. “You don’t want to hear the next chapter Bets.”

“Why not?” Her voice and gaze were steady.

“Let’s just say you’re a main character.” He avoided her gaze, glancing out the window at the rain that was pattering against the side of the building.

“And…” She said, forcing him to elaborate.

“And I don’t want to hurt you Betty! I don’t want it to-“

“Jughead. I’m so tired.” She interrupted him. He’d known that for a long time, seen the same echo of exhaustion in her eyes that he knew flooded his own, but he hadn’t quite realised the extent of it until she slumped forward in their booth, head resting in her hands. “I’m tired of being perfect. I’m tired of compensating for whatever happened with Polly. I want to stop, I want your honesty Juggy, and I want to hear the rest of your novel.”

And maybe it was because he’d never heard her say I so many times in a row, but he didn’t put up a fight. Despite how much he wanted to tell her that she was wrong, he wasn’t as honest as he’d like, and the real reason he was scared about showing her his work was what it revealed about himself not her. None of that mattered anymore, as he flipped through his computer, found where he’d last left it, and began to read.

“Thank you.” She said, so simply after he was done with the chapter, watching him as he finally tore his eyes away from the screen to look at her. And it was those words, an acknowledgment of what it meant that he was showing this too her, the appreciation she felt when others in her position might’ve gotten angry, that cemented the resolve that had been forming in his mind. The realisation that no one was worthy of Betty Cooper, but he wanted to be, and that was enough for now.

But he couldn’t say any of that out loud, not yet, when he still wasn’t sure what that meant. Instead, he smiled at her, something he found himself doing a lot recently, and then offered her a proposal. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

She shot him a confused look. “Right now?”

“I have some on my laptop. We could share headphones?” He felt alarmingly self-conscious in the brief moment where she paused, before she got out of the booth and came around to sit next to him, shoving him down the bench so she had more space.

They sat close, thigh to thigh, a headphone in each ear as Jughead argued for this movie and then that movie.

“Tell me you like Hitchcock?”

“I’ve seen Birds and Psycho.” She replied, peering over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his screen.

“Rear Window?” He asked.

“The one with the princess?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Grace Kelly.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t seen it.” And then she laughed at his childishly excited response.

“We have to watch Rear Window It’s a classic of thriller cinema. It’s a tragedy, a catastrophe, that you have yet to experience its masterpiece.”

“Put it on then!”

“Betty.” He turned to look at her straight on, a comically sombre expression on his face, and their headphones forced their heads to be much closer together than either was used to. “I am sincerely jealous of this new experience you are about to receive.” And then he turned back to his laptop, leant against his seat, and pressed play.

It wasn’t the ideal situation. Jughead’s ideal situation would’ve been at the Twilight Drive-In, the second best would’ve been them alone watching it on a TV screen, but it was good enough. And as Betty gasped at all the right bits, even tearing up a little, it suddenly didn’t matter where or how they were watching it, it simply mattered that they were there, watching it together.

“That reminded me of you.” He said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear, as the screen turned black and they tried to recover from what they’d just seen.

“Who? Grace Kelly?”

“No. I meant James Stewart, the way he chased his theory even when it was uncomfortable, when everyone just thought he was mad.”

“You’re right.” She shifted against him. “If that had been us, we’d have had that guy arrested in no time.”

Neither of them knew that, after all they hadn’t managed to track down the very real killer amongst them yet, but it was comforting though nonetheless. “We would Bets.” Jughead replied. “We would.”

{]

Unbeknownst to the two teenagers, their private cinema session had had a witness that they weren’t aware of. It wasn’t just the rest of the diners, Pop himself, and Mrs Lodge who’d seen them staring at the screen. In the midst of their movie, Archie Andrews himself had waltzed into Pop’s.

The redhead had first tried to get hold of Betty but, noting the closed curtains and unanswered text messages, he’d assumed she was unreachable and had instead focused on finding Jughead and making amends. But on entering Pop’s he’d found himself surprised by the sight of his two best friends hanging out without him.

He wondered when this had started happening without him realising it, how much he’d missed due to his own preoccupation, and why it felt so wrong to walk over and interrupt. Maybe it was how close they were sitting, Archie wouldn’t have been surprised if Betty had shifted to rest her head against Jughead’s shoulder, or the way he spotted Jughead stealing looks at Betty’s reaction to whatever they were watching.

Either way, it felt startlingly intimate, and Archie rushed out of the room before they had a chance to notice him. His stomach churned as he walked home, stewing over something he couldn’t wrap his head round, until his phone dinged with a message from Valerie, and he changed direction, heading, instead, to chase the next pretty girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate the feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re insufferable.” She sighed
> 
> “Then why are you still here?” 
> 
> “Because, despite my better instincts, I like spending time with you.”
> 
> “Careful Bets,” Jughead said, voice low. “Saying things like that might give a guy the wrong idea.”
> 
> Part three. Archie has a confrontation, Betty does some reminiscing, and Jughead is late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't even planning on writing more but here we go. I had most of this written right after the second chapter but haven't gotten around to finishing it until now. That means it's kind of canon non-complaint because it was written pre 1.06? but also could fit in with canon if you squint? You decide.

The next day Archie waited for Jughead after school, cornering him as he slipped out on his was to Pop’s, and it stung a little that this seemed to be the only time they talked recently, when Archie was dragging him off somewhere to question his motives.

“Can we talk?” Archie said, falling into step with Jughead as he headed down the steps.

There was a petty urge within him that made him want to say no, but Archie sounded so earnest, and was, he hoped, still his best friend, so he just shrugged in acknowledgment and let himself be tugged out of the way of the flow of the students, till they stood together in the corner of the sidewalk.

Now, that Jughead had agreed, kind of, to talk, he could see his friend was struggling with what to say, forehead creasing in thought.

“Did you have a specific topic in mind?” Jughead asked after a second.

“You and Betty?” Archie asked. “You’re?” He struggled to finish his thought, to find the right words to describe what he’d seen the night before.

“Plotting world domination? Working on the school newspaper together? Friends?”

“Do you like her Jughead?”

He lowered his head, fiddling with the straps on his bag, wondering whether he himself even knew the answer. Although, he did, of course he did, he was just an expert in pretending he didn’t. “Do you Archie?” He gave his friend a searching look. “Is that what this is about?”

“She’s Betty, I-“ Archie began.

“She’s your endgame? That’s what Kevin says right.”

Archie didn’t respond.

“She deserves more than being your happy ending.”

“I know that, man.” Archie said quickly. “I swear I do. She’s my best friend, _you’re_ my best friend. I want you to be happy. Both of you.”

There was another pause, the flow of their conversation faltering with all the things unsaid in the air, all the history the three of them shared, the futures they’d planned being rewritten as they spoke.

“Just be careful.” The redhead advised. “I don’t want to see my friend get hurt.”

“Betty’s a lot stronger than she appears.” He muttered defensively.

“I wasn’t talking about her.” Archie said.

Jughead appeared surprised at the implication, taken aback, and, just slightly, embarrassed. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that Archie was probably right, because Jughead knew he’d never do anything to hurt Betty Cooper, but had no idea what she might do. She was kind, funny, endlessly self-sacrificing, but she held power over him that no one else really had, and he couldn’t know she wouldn’t hurt him accidentally. People did that to him sometimes, hurt him without realising he had emotions, because he was aloof, and sarcastic, they trampled over him like they did the grass beneath their feet. But it surprised him, though he wasn’t sure why, that Archie knew that about him, even as he sometimes did it himself.

“Enough of these rom com moments.” He broke the silence, happy to see Archie give him a brief smile in return. “We’re better than that.”

“Alright, I was just saying.” He laughed, and the tension between them was broken. Suddenly, they were old friends again, instead of potential rivals, and they began to walk.

“You coming to Pop’s? I’ll let you buy me a milkshake.” Jughead said.

“Actually,” Archie shifted awkwardly. “I’m meeting Valerie.”

“It’s cool man.” He shrugged. “Next time?”

“Next time.” The redhead promised, looking relieved, before shooting off in the opposite direction to meet his latest pseudo-girlfriend. Jughead watched him go, unable to figure out exactly what he was feeling.

()

 

Betty knew the moment she walked in that he wasn’t there. There was a palpable shift in atmosphere, like the room was ten degrees colder than usual, and seeing the booth where Jughead normally resided empty was like coming home at night to find all your furniture had been moved just one inch to the left. His absence was subtle, unnoticeable to anyone else, but to Betty, deeply unsettling.

She didn’t need to head to the counter and inquire about his location because she knew he hadn’t been there, but she moved that way anyway, feeling it gave her a sense of purpose. She didn’t even need to ask before the answer she knew already was proffered.

“Your boy hasn’t been in tonight.” Pop’s said as she approached, and she willed herself not to blush at his use of the possessive that she assumed referenced Jughead, like she could have ownership over anyone, but especially someone like him. “Honestly, I thought he’d be with you.”

“No, actually.” She gave a half-smile. “He isn’t.” She slipped onto a stool anyway, feeling rather silly for having expected that he’d be there waiting for her. It wasn’t something they’d agree on verbally, these meetings, but she’d felt like they’d had a general consensus about them. Jughead didn’t actually spend every waking moment at the diner, she assumed, but sometimes it felt as if he did, and it made sense that she would come to meet him at this time, like she had the past two nights. But maybe he hadn’t put much thought into it, so wrapped up as he could get in his writing and his work, and maybe she’d been reading too much into things. She had no right to be upset, or disappointed, but she couldn’t help but feel the beginnings of something that felt a lot like them tapping her on the shoulder.

She felt lost in her thoughts, and only looked up when a tall, white glass was set in front of her.

“Vanilla Malt.” Pop said. “On the house.

“Oh.” She sat up, taken aback. “Thanks Pop.  But you didn’t have to-“

The older man waved her off. “No problem. You enjoy it.”

She felt sincere gratitude, not necessarily for the free drink, but for the warmth that came behind it. “Thank you” She repeated, giving him a taste of the full force of her charm.

“The least I could do. You’re a special one. Seems like the nighthawk found his nightingale huh?” He said, as he cleaned some glasses, eyeing her with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. She looked down into her drink, immediately the urge to protest rose within her, it wasn’t like that, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure she knew exactly what it was like.

The only thing she knew was that she wanted Jughead to have been here, and that the first person she turned to nowadays was no longer the boy next door, in fact, it hadn’t been for a while.

She took a sip of her drink, tapping absentmindedly on the desk, wondering whether she should text Veronica or simply slink away like she’d never been there. But before she could decide the door to Pop’s flew open with a bang, and she startled, turning to come face to face with an out of breath, soaking wet Jughead.

There was no way he was going to be able to pull off nonchalant, the whole diner had swivelled to see who was entering so dramatically, but he tried his best anyway. He walked towards where Betty sat, gaping at him, trying to maintain his air of cool.

“Did you run all the way here?” She asked as he approached, a thrill outweighing the initial shock of his appearance.

“That’s a distinct possibility.” He admitted. 

“You’re wet.” She pointed out.

“Good observation.” He said dryly, wincing when he looked behind him to see the wet footprints he’d trailed in, feeling guilty at the extra work some poor employee of Pop’s would have to do. “We live in Riverdale. It’s raining.”

“Of course it is.” She said, still giving him an incredulous look.

“Well,” He shifted backwards onto the balls of his feet. “I’m going to my booth.”

She watched him walk away and felt a wave of hysteria rise within her, which suddenly broke so she found herself laughing uncontrollably. Her body racked with it and she struggled to stand up with her milkshake and follow him to where he sat.

“You’re going to pretend you didn’t run all the way here to see me?” She said in-between laugher, sliding into place opposite him.

“No.” He said, grinning back at her. “I did run all the way here to see you. I just don’t like sitting at the counter.”

“You’re insufferable.” She sighed

“Then why are you still here?”              

“Because, despite my better instincts, I like spending time with you.”

“Careful Bets,” Jughead said, voice low. “Saying things like that might give a guy the wrong idea.”

She took a sip of her milkshake, before leaning back and pulling an awkward face, her shoulders shrugging. “Would it?” She asked, though it sounded more as if she was asking herself than him.

Jughead was trying to keep calm, suave like the guys in movies, but he couldn’t help his underlying goofiness that slipped through in his small smile. “I-“ He began and then faltered. “Maybe not.”

They paused. “I’m sorry, that I was late.”

“No.” She waved him off, blushing. “We didn’t actually have plans. If you hadn’t charged in, I’d have just called Ronnie or something.”

“Glad to know I’m easily replaceable.”

Betty’s lips turned downwards, and she seemed embarrassed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I know. I just wanted to say, I was coming, but Archie cornered me after school, and then I was walking and I lost track of time.”

“What did Archie want?” She asked casually.

“What does he normally want?”

 She paused thoughtfully, eyes trained on some place outside the window. “Honestly, I don’t think he knows.”

“I don’t think he does.” Jugged seemed surprised at her words, shifting in embarrassment as he remembered what Archie had said. “But he is trying.”

“That’s all you can ask from anyone.” She sighed, before suddenly snapping her gaze back to Jughead. “But I don’t want to talk about Archie.”

“You don’t?” Jughead asked, in a tone that was aiming for nonchalant but skipped straight to hopeful.

“God,” She leaned back against the booth, letting her head roll to the side and giving him a crumpled smile. “I don’t. I really, really don’t.”

“My wish is your command. I’m free to talk about any topic of your choice.”

“That would be nice, if I could think about anything other than where my mom has stashed Polly.” She admitted, twirling her straw absentmindedly.

“We can talk about that.” He insisted, leaning forward unconsciously.

“What else is there to say? We have a plan to figure out where she is, and I’ve been through it, over, and over, in my head. There’s nothing to do but wait and worry.”

“Hey,” He reached over to place a calming hand across hers, stopping its anxious tapping at the table. “Why don’t you tell me about her? I don’t know Polly. Tell me what she’s like.”

“Really?” She looked from their hands to examine his face.

“Yeah. I’m interested in all things Cooper related.”

“I don’t know. Polly was my hero when I was little. It wasn’t like we told each other everything, it wasn’t like that, but we loved each other. Sometimes it felt like it was always gonna be me and Poll against the world, until Jason came.” She looked down at her lap. “She was independent, and kind, and a hopeless romantic.”

“And you aren’t?”

She laughed. “Not as much as she is. She could be naïve. But I guess I can be too.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s naïve to want to think the best of people. It’s naïve to ignore the warning signs.” He squeezed her hand just lightly, and she looked down at it in surprise. “Which I don’t think you do.”

“Thanks Juggy.” She sighed, rolling her shoulders. “You know we always used to talk about what it would be like to grow up.”

“What did you think it would be like?”

“Nothing like this.” She laughed, a wistful smile lingering on her face. “When we were kids, Polly thought she’d be able to move out when she hit sixteen. I think she watched a show or something and confused eighteen for sixteen and became convinced that it was the normal thing to do. Until she mentioned it to my mom, who quickly shot that idea down.”

“Mama Cooper didn’t approve?”

“She did not.” Betty nodded. “But our parents didn’t seem to approve of a lot of what Polly thought.”

“I bet that didn’t stop her.” He pulled his hand back, suddenly self-conscious of his clammy palms.

“Not all the time.” She smiled, half-sad, lost in her memories.

 “Tell me more.”

So she did. She spoke until her milkshake was empty, until the free fries that been deposited by Pop were all gone, and the sky began to darken. She told him about Polly’s fifth birthday party, the time Betty got stuck up a tree and Polly helped her down without telling their Mom, the secret knock they developed so they could communicate between their bedrooms in case of emergency. Jughead listened, eager to learn more about the girl in front of him, but also just to see her smile, even if that smile was tinged with sadness.

“Thank you for listening to me Juggy.” She sighed, when she come to the end of one story.

“Any time. I’m a gold medal listener, world class, it’s my speciality.”

“I can tell.” She said, looking at him with a softness in her eyes that made him uncomfortable, mainly because he liked it too much. “But I should get home.”

“The warden’s back?”

“Yes. She thinks I’m at tutoring.”

“Betty Cooper.” He said, with faux shock in his voice. “Was this an illicit rendezvous?”

“I think it was.” She said, sliding out the booth and standing up.

“Hypothetically,” He began, as he stood up and followed her out the diner, unable to help the slight insecurities rising within him. “Would you be available for another illicit rendezvous tomorrow night?”

“If you stop calling it that, then yes. I’ll be there.”

“I swear I won’t be late again.” He said, as they stepped out into the cool night air.

This time, when he walked her home, they had to stop a street from her house so they weren’t observed. But that didn’t matter, because it still felt sweet when she hugged him goodbye, and this time, when she leant forward to kiss him on the cheek, he didn’t feel surprise, just warmth blooming in the depth of his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think they'll be one more chapter after this and then I'll be done. But originally this was meant to be a one shot so who knows. I hope you enjoyed. And, as always, please let me know what you thought in the comments. Each one makes my day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jughead.” She said, after a second. “Is this a date?
> 
> “No.” His lips twitched. “It’s a Milkshake.”
> 
> Veronica wants to know what's happening with Jughead, and the almost-couple spend another night at Pop's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Okay, I think this is gonna be the last chapter. It's just a few nice little scenes. Sorry if there's any mistakes, no one betas them, and I hope you enjoy.

Jughead was seriously considering changing his name and going into Witness Protection when, for the third time in a row, he was cornered at school.

“And what did I do to gain the attentions of a Lodge?” Jughead said, slamming his locker shut.

“Hello Jughead.” Veronica Lodge stood eyeing him, an indecipherable expression on her cool face, characteristically impeccably dressed. “Can we talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” He expressed, crumpling his brow in faux-confusion

“Did anyone ever teach you that it costs nothing to be nice?”

 “Funnily enough no, it’s never came up.” He said as he began to walk.

“Well, as someone who’s had that lesson made glaringly obvious, believe me, it’s an important one.” She said, following alongside him, her heels clacking against the corridor.

“Noted.” He nodded. “But, I have a hunch that’s not what this is about?”

“Right.” She stopped in front of him, positioning them against the wall and safely far away from the students streaming past. “It’s about Betty.”

“Don’t worry,” He sighed. “Her purity is still safely intact.”

“Okay, totally not where I was going with this.” The look she gave him, perfect eyebrows arched in his direction, made him feel embarrassed for thinking she might have been insinuating something, it seemed that their budding something-other-than-friendship was not on her radar. And why would it be? Jughead was Jughead and Betty was Betty, he was probably kidding himself.

“Then what?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“I’m worried about Betty.” Veronica admitted. “There are many things that I am skilled at but playing ‘True Detective’ is not one of them. I get that figuring out what happened to Jason Blossom is important, but I cannot devote my time to pouring over murder boards like you two can.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “Look, I’m not exactly used to caring about people like I do about Betty, about most of the people in Riverdale. And, if your whole Holden Caulfield act is anything to go by, neither are you.”

“I guess.” He nodded.

“I just want to know that she’s okay.”

“She’s Betty. She’s tougher than most people.”

“Please, I know that. I guess I just want to know if you have her back.”

“You know I do.” He bristled, just slightly.

“Okay. But you can’t blame me for asking the question. Best friend privileges.” She shrugged, smirking suddenly. Watching her, Jughead couldn’t help but recall what Kevin had said, about not remembering what Riverdale was like before Veronica Lodge rolled into town. That girl was a force of nature, and he was sure, if she wanted to, she could crush him beneath her Louboutin heels. “I’m just looking out for our favourite girl.”

He shrugged. “I get it.”

“Perfect.” She perked up, flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder. “Now I’m meeting Cheryl before Biology, are you coming?”

Now it was Jughead’s turn to give her a questioning look. “Hanging with our town’s resident she-devil? So tempting.” 

“She’s a bitch but she’s grieving, cut her some slack.”

“I do. But I also know the town motto.”

Veronica shot him a puzzled look.

“Never trust a Blossom.”

“True.” She looked him up and down. “And my personal motto is never trust a man who wears the same thing every day.”

“Jokes on you.” He smirked. “I haven’t worn this top for at least two days.” 

“One of these days Jughead, I am going to get my hands on your wardrobe.” She said as she walked away, making it sound more like a threat than anything else.

“In your dreams Lodge.” He laughed as she retreated, throwing him a wave of acknowledgement as she left.

()

The sky was mostly clear, one of the rarer weather days in Riverdale, and Jughead and Betty commandeered the nearest table to wait for their friends to arrive.  Jughead sat the wrong way round on the bench, back to the table and legs outstretched, leaning back far enough so he could watch the sky and the clouds that passed.

“Maybe she’s ran away to join the circus and your parents are ashamed of her circus lifestyle?” He said, watching a puff of white overhead, wondering if it looked more like a toaster or a phone box.

“Polly was afraid of clowns.” She let a wistful smile play on her lips. “Don’t you remember my sixth birthday party?”

“Unfortunately I do. Your sister had a vicious kick. That poor guy did not see it coming.”

Betty laughed at the memory. “Mom was furious.”

“Okay. No Clowns. New theory, she’s a Russian spy and has been caught trading government secrets?”

“Who’s a Russian spy?” A voice came from the left.

Jughead turned lazily to watch Archie approach and slide into the space across from them.

“We’re brainstorming theories about Polly.” Betty said in explanation, shrugging her shoulders and looking down at the table.

Archie tossed his bag onto the table, rummaging around to pull out some chips, before furrowing his brow at his two friends, Jughead was still not facing him, but he could’ve pictured the look perfectly anyway. “Have you found anything?

Betty pursed her lips. “I don’t know. Not yet. Jughead and I are snooping at my place tomorrow.”

Archie looked a little surprised by that, but he wasn’t sure why, maybe it had something to do with the image of Jughead in the Cooper household, it was incongruous with his image of the place, and, even as he was aware of their relationships all shifting, it still felt strange. “Right. Isn’t talking about it before you know anything just going to worry you more?”

 “There is no worrying more Archie.” She picked at her food. “And anyway, I think it’s helpful when we come up with ridiculous scenarios. It can’t actually be worse than her being abducted by aliens, you know?”

Jughead sat up, spinning round on the bench so he was now facing the right way, snagging a chip from Archie’s open bag. He couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face at Betty defending their theorising, and when he turned to get a glimpse of her, he was relieved to see a matching smile aimed his way.

“Do not tell me there are aliens in Riverdale.” Kevin arrived, sitting next to Archie, Veronica following closely behind and slipping in next to him. “And please, if there are, _please_ tell me it’s ET.”

“ET used to creep me out as a kid.” Veronica said, placing her coffee cup on the table

“Really?” Betty laughed.

“Yeah, that long finger? The wrinkly skin? No thank you.”

“I’m begging you Ronnie, do not ruin a beloved childhood classic for me.” Kevin pleaded.

She smirked, a worrying twinkle in her eyes. “Did you guys know there’s ET porn?”

“Ruined it.” He whimpered, throwing his head dramatically in his hands. “She’s ruined it.”

“Ew.” Betty laughed, the rest of the gang joining in. “Change of topic.”

“What were you all talking about before?”

“Polly.” Betty said.

“Ah.” Veronica responded, concern colouring her face.

“Got any theories to add Kev? Ronnie?” Jughead asked, leaning back to look at them. “We’ve got a creepy mansion straight out of Crimson Peak, torrid love affairs, a boy dead and a girl missing. I hate to break it you all, but I think we’re living out the plot of a Gothic novel.”

“Hard pass on the Gothic genre, unless my own Mr Rochester is waiting in the wings, then I’m out.” Veronica said.

“Locking girls up in his attic? So romantic.” Jughead said.

“Point taken. Forget it,” She sighed. “Why are men so awful again?”

Archie shrugged “There’s some good guys out there.”

“Did you just try to ‘not all men’ me Archiekins?” She asked incredulously.

He winced. “It was not intentional.”

“I’ll forgive you, but next time you try that, we are going to have to have a serious talk about powerful women. Right Betty?”

“Hmm.” Betty said distractedly, looking up from where she’d been exchanging looks with Jughead. “Oh. Definitely.”

“There’s so much you Riverdale men need to learn.” She sighed, neatly crossing her legs. “Seriously, what did you guys do before me?”

“Conveniently, I can’t recall.” Kevin replied.

“There was no ‘guys’.” Jughead said and, when Veronica shot him a questioning look, he elaborated. “We weren’t exactly the Scooby gang.”

“Really?”

“Jughead used to lurk alone and brood.” Kevin said.

“I did not.”

“Dude, you did.” Archie laughed. “You still do.”

“Having the capacity to be alone with your thoughts isn’t brooding. C’mon, Betty?” He turned to the blond beside him, his last hope.

“You’re a little bit of a brooder Jug.” She said, smiling. “But we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He tried to keep the scowl on his face but he couldn’t help admitted that, at her comment, it began to morph more into a goofy grin. She was looking at him softly, in a way that made his heart clench, and gave him the courage to place his hand next to hers on the bench and slip his pinkie over hers. Their friends went back to bickering and teasing, and no one seemed to notice that their hands stayed touching beneath the table until they stood up to leave.

 ()

Every time the door of the diner opened, Jughead felt himself jolt away from his writing and towards the entrance, each time hoping a certain blond was about to arrive, each time feeling a sting of disappointment as a different customer walked in. The words he typed were barely making sense, his brain on edge, until the door swung open and Betty Cooper strolled in.

He stood up before she could get to his booth, and she shot him a puzzled look.

“Jughead?” She asked.

“Sit down. I’ll be right back.” He said, launching himself off the bench and towards the counter before she could question him further. She watched him head to counter, feeling bemused and a little blindsided, but she slid into the space opposite his laptop anyway.

It only took a minute before Jughead returned and deposited a giant, frosty pink glass in front of her, complete with whipped cream and a cherry on top. She paused for a moment, looking from the drink to where Jughead sat, refusing to make eye contact with her.

“Jughead.” She said, after a second. “Is this a date?

“No.” His lips twitched. “It’s a Milkshake.”

“Ah.” She said, and he saw the slight turn of her lips, the slip in her gaze, and with a sudden start he realised that she was embarrassed to have asked.

“But- you know, this might be the sort of thing, that people who do things like that, like to do for the other person.”

“Oh.” She leant back against her seat, and he was pleased to see, when he glanced up, that there was a smile once again creeping onto her lips. “It is?”

“So I’ve heard.” He attempted to shrug. “From bad teen shows and Archie.”

“Okay.” She leant forward to take a sip. “But next time it’s on me.”

He lifted his hands up. “I never turn down free food. Some might say I encourage it.”

“They’d be right.” She laughed.

And he chuckled too, until they fell into a comfortable silence, Betty looking at the scratches on the well-worn table they’d slipped into. He could see that her mind was somewhere else, locked onto the events of tomorrow.

“Hey,” Summoning a sudden surge of courage, he reached across the table to put his hands on the one she’d left absentmindedly on the table. “It’ll be okay.”

She rolled her shoulders, slumping a little as she sighed, but not removing her hand from his. “I know. I know.”

“Whatever happens at least we’ll know.”

“And nothing could be worse than just worrying.”

“Oh yeah.” He lifted his hand from hers. “Nothing is worse than not knowing. Except maybe the cinematic oeuvre of Adam Sandler.”

“Tomorrow we can work on a new plan. And hopefully, I’ll know that Polly’s okay.” She seemed to be seeking more to herself than to him, and so he just watched her carefully, as she took another breathe to steady herself and gave him a small smile. “Anyway, I want to talk about something else.”

“You do?”

“I do.” She nodded. “I want you to read me some more of your work.”

“Agh.” He said. “Is that all I am to you? A source of amateur true crime writing.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” She replied, taking a sip of the drink he’d bought her.

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“Hmm, that too.” She said softly.

“Oh. Good.”

“I have some notes for you.” She said, shaking them out of the heavy tension they’d somehow fallen into. “Just some feedback.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” And then she reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook, which nearly caused Jughead to laugh. “Just a few.”

“A few?” He repeated, snagging her book and skimming through the pages, noticing there were at least two filled with her neat scrawl and all about him.

“Yes.” She laughed, snatching it back. “I really like your work Jughead. But I’m a journalist at heart, I always have some suggestions. It’s mostly perfect I just have some ideas to tweak it a little.”

“You’re the only person I’d trust with this.”

“Really?” She asked, sounding genuinely relieved.

“Of course. You make everything you touch better.” He replied, trying to pretend that he was talking about only writing, and not think too deeply about how that was true, as if the moment she walked into any room, the world didn’t get brighter.

“Thank you.” Her voice was low, and he was rewarded with that small half-smile that always made his heart race when he saw it.

And then, for the rest of that evening, they worked through his book. Betty was both happy, and mildly surprised, that Jughead was so receptive to her advice, because she’d had experiences before, particularly with men, of people refusing to listen to her, never respecting her opinion, because she looked sweet, and was kind. But here was Jughead, not afraid to argue for what he wanted, but also listening to her, giving her his hard-worn smiles when she made a good point. At the end, they had something that wasn’t Betty, but it was no longer fully Jughead’s, it was his voice shaped with hers, and it felt very satisfying.

They left Pop’s together in the dimming light, Jughead insisting on walking her home again, their bodies drifting closer together until their arms brushed with each step they took.

“We should stop here.” Betty said, round the corner from her house, close enough they could spot that all the lights were on.

“Mama Cooper?”

“Actually, she knows I’m with you tonight.”

“Really?” He cracked a sceptical look.

“Yeah. She likes you more than Archie, but I don’t want to push it too far, at least tonight. We don’t want to risk your invite to breakfast.”

“Breakfast with the Coopers, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Hey, we’re getting to dine with the elusive Jughead Jones.” She joked, hitting him lightly against the chest. “I think we’re the lucky ones.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.” He shifted his gaze awkwardly.

“Alright.” She smiled. “But thank you for walking me home.”

“Anytime Bets.”

“And thanks for the milkshake.” She continued, emphasising the last word so he knew she was teasing him.

Often he heard a voice is in his head, saying he was misreading the signs and that she couldn’t be interested in the way he was interested in her, that he was seeing things that weren’t there. But then she’d look at him like she was, smile, make a joke, be vulnerable with him in a way he wasn’t used to people being, and he’d change his mind again, he’d hope.

For a second, he felt like he was going to kiss her, like he had the courage within him to close the small gap between them. But the twinkling lights of the Archie residence flashed in the background of his vision, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he held her in a tight embrace.

“Stay safe.” He whispered into the top of her hair, before pulling back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She waved, and he was gone, promising himself that next time, he’d have the courage to kiss her like he wanted. Next time, he’d do it, that was the first promise that he was determined to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this guys, I hope you enjoyed. As always, let me know what you thought, I really read and appreciate every comment. Thanks again.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a possibility this might become a series of one shots if I get more inspiration as the series go on. Let me know what you thought!


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